29 November 2014

[29] decaf

I showed up at a coffee shop for a writing meetup, but no one is obviously here for the writing meetup except maybe an old guy pouring over a sheaf of papers or a girl with headphones in her ears and stickers all over her macbook. Useless.

Without that incentive to write, I am spending less time writing and more time reading a book that is excellent and also due back at the library today. I tried to renew it, but someone has a hold on it. And they are brutal about the fines at the library in Gone West. 25 cents a day, and no grace period. Which is fine if I had this one book and would finish it tomorrow, but I have four books due today, I think, so I have to go to the library anyway.

The guy at the counter made me a pretty little decaf cappuccino. Actually, first he made me a less pretty regular cappuccino, and then instead of handing it across the counter, he just stared at it. 

"Is that decaf?" I asked.

"No," he said. "I knew there was something wrong, but I couldn't figure out what."

So he made it again, and not only was it decaf, but it was prettier the second time, too.

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